By Casey Corcoran
Looking back, I can see
that it was the timing of it all.
The loss, then nothing.
Suddenly stopping then wanting
to somehow stop again,
to let everything and everyone pass me
until they eventually forgot I was ever there.
Like I knew the rhythm of my world,
how I was meant to exist in it and
how fragile it all somehow was,
but refused to keep time
anyways.
To respond to something
I didn’t understand
that was part of something
beyond what I could comprehend
with silence, complete absence.
Nothing to be learned
or taken away,
just stillness and nothing.
Choosing to exist but not participate.
I guess all it eventually took was one thing,
one person
not to teach me
or help me understand,
but to remind me
of why I listened to the rhythm in the first place,
of how beautiful everything could sound.
And I don’t want to predicate a relationship
that saved the life I chose to stop
on timing in relation to the loss
of another relationship,
but maybe that’s just the cycle of things.
Clamor 